Master Of The Macabre
by AuR0Ra B0Realis
Summary: Based on the TV show Castle. Percy Jackson Is a murder mystery author and Annabeth Chase is a determined detective. What will happen when the two are forced to work together to solve a case? and what will happen when they solve it will they carry on working together or go their separate ways?
1. Chapter 1

**(Please Read!)**

**THE CHARACTORS**

**Percy Jackson - A murder mystery author (Richard Castle in Castle)**

**Annabeth Chase - A homicide detective (Kate Beckett in Castle)**

**Piper McLean - Percy's daughter (Alexis Castle in Castle)**

**Sally Jackson - Percy's mother and broadway actress (Martha Rodgers in Castle)**

**Grover Underwood - A homicide detective (Javier Esposito in Castle)**

**Jason Grace - A homicide detective (Kevin Ryan in Castle)**

**Thalia Grace - A medical examiner and a forensic analyst (Lanie Parish in Castle)**

**Chiron - Captain of the homicide division (Roy Montgomery in Castle) **

**Rachel E. Dare - Percy's publisher and ex wife (Gina Cowell in Castle)**

**AN - Jason and Piper do NOT get together in this because he's in his 20s and she's in her teens.**

* * *

**This was originally a fanfic I made for another fandom but I decided to change it. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to Rick Riordan and the themes and plots belong to the creators of Castle.**

**Sorry for any mistakes**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Flowers for Your Grave **

**(Part 1)**

* * *

The landscape was sand colored, stretching into a horizon of black. It was very serene. A single bead of red, rolls down like a teardrop. The view zooms out till you could see that it wasn't a landscape. It was a body. A gloved hand reaches into a ziplock bag and withdraws a fistful of rose petals. The petals slowly tumble through space, landing on naked skin.

The gloved hand picks up bloody clothing from the floor and stuffs it into a plastic bag. With the bag in hand, the killer leaves the room. The victim was a young woman in her Early twenties, staring into the distance with lifeless eyes.

* * *

Across the city at a rooftop publishing party. Waiters dressed as murder victims serve drinks, while attractive women mingle with middle-aged men.

A hush falls over the crowd. Around the room, giant placards display the photograph of a handsome, roguish man - Percy Jackson. The placards were set up to advertise his latest book, "Storm's End." The woman, standing at the podium in front of the crowd was Rachel E. Dare, the president of Black Pawn Publishing.

"What is it about a dark and stormy night that sets our pulses racing? What is it about a hard-boiled detective, a femme fatale, and the cold steel of a gun that keeps our bedside lamps glowing until the early hours of the morning?" She questioned smiling down at the crowd.

Waiting nearby is Percy Jackson himself, a man in his early-thirties and a rock star of the literary world. He was dressed in jeans, a blue button up shirt and a leather jacket. He's the kind of trouble every woman hopes to find. And a couple of them have, much to his delight.

"Are you really Percy Jackson?" A busty blonde asks him.

"Are you really a blonde?" He countered and somehow from Percy, it sounded charming.

Back at the podium. Rachel continues speaking. "However the spell is cast, tonight we honor one of the masters of the form and celebrate the launch of storm's end, the stunning conclusion to his best-selling Derrick Storm mystery series."

Percy holds a sharpie at the ready as one giggling young woman pulls her dress top aside to reveal a lace bra tastefully covering her breast. Percy grins and signs his name just above the bra line. "Call me when you're ready to wash it." He whispers to her. Rachel glances over in time to witness this. A fleeting glimpse of disapproval crosses her face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Master of the Macabre... Percy Jackson."

Percy walks onstage to the applause of the audience. He and Rachel exchange a kiss.

"Pig." She said quietly.

"Witch." He replies with the same tone. The smile never leaves either of their faces.

"Rachel E. Dare everyone. President of Black Pawn Publishing." He praised, followed by another round of applause. Rachel walked off stage and took a seat in the front.

"Isn't she something." Percy said looking down at her with a fake smile. "You know, on the way over here tonight, it occurred to me... Detective Storm and I have been together longer than both my marriages put together and when I thought of it that way, it made me realize something."

He pauses dramatically. Moved. Almost teary. Then within the space of a few minuets he changes, his cocky smile returns. "No wonder I'm ready to move on." The crowd erupts in laughter.

"Seriously. It's been a great ride. The book is a great read. And I look forward to seeing you all back here after I've spilled more ink and blood." He said smiling.

* * *

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

Rachel and Percy stand together for the photographers. Rachel speaks through gritted teeth. "What kind of idiot kills off a best-selling character?"

"Are you asking as my blood-sucking publisher or my blood-sucking ex-wife?" Percy inquires looking at her. The Photographer nods thanks. Immediately, the smiles drop.

"Is that what you're doing? Punishing me by killing the golden goose?" She asks.

"I may be petty and short-sighted, but I'm not that petty and short-sighted." He answers.

"Then for godsakes why?" She questioned as they move through the crowd, people hand Percy books to sign. He looks up at her."I told you, I was bored."

"You don't kill a billion dollar franchise because you're bored." She argues.

Percy looks at her for a moment, pondering his answer. "He wasn't fun anymore. Writing him was like... Work."

"God forbid you work. You could've retired him, crippled him, had him join a fucking circus! But no. You put a bullet through his head." Rachel shouted.

"Don't forget the big exit wound too. Real messy. Like Cortez burning his ships." He said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing tray. "Besides, Derrick Storm isn't the Golden Goose. I am. I wrote half a dozen best-sellers before him. What makes you think I'll stop now?" He asked.

"Oh I don't know. The fact the new book was due nine weeks ago." She said sarcastically, raising her eyebrows at him.

"You can't rush genius." Percy states. Rachel pulls him aside. "I'm not hearing genius, Percy. I'm hearing blockage. I'm hearing you haven't written in months."

"That's ridiculous." He complains.

"My sources are very reliable." She affirmed watching as Percy's eyes narrowed. "Well, they're wrong." He said a little too quickly.

"They better be, because Storm or no Storm, you're still under contract. And if I don't have a manuscript on my desk in the next three weeks, Black Pawn is prepared to demand the return of your advance." She informed him.

He glaring at her. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me, Cortez. Just try me." She challenged as she walked away, Percy called after her. "I already returned the advance. I spent it divorcing you!" Rachel just smiled at him and gives him a shrug.

* * *

NYPD patrol cars gather outside an apartment building in Chelsea. Officers hold back the noisy civilians. An unmarked car pulled up and out steps detective Annabeth Chase. She was street-savvy and confident. She crossed the police tape and flashed her badge. "Detective Chase. Homicide."

Annabeth headed up the hallway, past the officers interviewing neighbors, to apartment 217. A couple of detectives were going over their notes.

"Grace, Underwood." She said, nodding to them.

"Figured they'd send you down." Grover confessed. She looked at him confused. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because. You like the freaky ones." He finished.

The crime scene techs photographed the body of Elizabeth Tisdale. She was lying on the dining room table, nude. She was covered head-to-toe in rose petals. Covering her eyes were two sunflowers.

"Elizabeth Tisdale. 24. She was a Grad student in Social Work at NYU." Jason informed them. "Neighbors called to complain about the music. When she didn't answer, they had the landlord open the door."

"Nice place." She said, looking around.

"Her father's money. Upper east side. Real estate." Jason replied.

"He couldn't spring for an alarm?" She questioned. Jason motioned towards the alarm on the side of the wall. "Top of line. But it was off."

"No forced entry. No sign of theft. No sign of struggle. She must have known the guy." Grover summarized.

A woman leans over the body, examining it. "Roses and sunflowers. Who says romance is dead?" She jokes. Somehow Thalia manages to maintain a warm, friendly outlook despite her chosen profession.

"I do, every Saturday night." Annabeth said solemnly. "What'd she get besides flowers?" She asked, trying to draw attention away from herself.

"Two to the chest. Low caliber. But here's the weird part." Thalia commented while removing the flower petals to reveal the gunshots. "Fibers in the wound indicate she was dressed when she was shot."

"Someone shot her, and then undressed her?" Annabeth inquired with a frown. "Must have been a first date because that's as far as it went." Thalia replied.

"Did you find the clothes?" Annabeth asked looking at Jason. "We've got officers looking through dumpsters." Jason responded.

"Fingernails?" Annabeth questioned. Thalia shakes her head. "They're clean. She didn't struggle."

"What are you thinking?" Grover asked Annabeth. "I'm thinking that if you want to kill someone, you kill them. You don't take the time to strip them and cover them with flowers, and you sure as hell don't leave the music blaring so the police will get here faster."

"Unless you're a genuine psycho." Grover muttered.

"Or trying to send a message." Annabeth suggested. Something about the scene irritated her. She stared at the body intensely. "Are you okay?" Thalia asked concerned.

"Does this look familiar to anyone?" Annabeth inquired looking around at her co-workers. "Familiar, how?" Grover questioned intrigued.

"Dead girl covered in roses. Sunflowers on her eyes?" She said, looking around again.

"I think that's something we'd all pretty much remember. Why?" Thalia questioned.

"Because... I've seen this before."

* * *

Back at the publishing party, a classy broad in the broadway mold, re-applies her make-up. A former actress on the Great White Way, Sally never made it nearly big as she thinks she did. "Come on, honey. Let me give you a touch up." She said to the teenager next to her.

"No thanks, Gran." She replied. Piper Jackson sits at the bar in a party dress, studying from a physics text book. She's a natural beauty, more mature that most of the teenagers her age.

"A word of advice, kiddo. When it comes to real life, girls need makeup a hell of a lot more than we need physics." She insisted. Piper looked at her with a bored expression "What if I become a physicist?"

"Then not even makeup can save you. Look, it's a party. Let's at least gloss those lips." Sally persuaded. Piper give up and offered her lips to her grandmother.

"It feels more like a funeral, the way he's been acting lately."

"He killed off his main character. Doesn't take Freud to see he's working through the five stages of grief. Anger, denial, booze, blondes, and rehab. Good news is that he's only up to blondes." Sally joked.

"I've never seen him this way. He's always been able to write."

"That's debatable. Let's face it, it's not Shakespeare." She mocked smiling at Piper.

"Gran, I'm being serious." Piper said looking at her grandmother, concern etching across her delicate features.

"Way too serious. Who does homework at a party?" Sally scoffed taking a sip of her drink.

"I have a test next week." Piper replied. Her eyes not leaving the text book in front of her.

"So do I. Liver function. You don't see me studying. Speaking of which." She stated, turning to the bartender. "Hey, sweetcheeks. You hiding any gin back there?"

The bartender looks at her apologetically. "Sorry, ma'am. Beer, wine, or champagne."

"Holy moley. No wonder the terrorists are winning. Alright. Gimme a hit of the bubbley." She requested.

Percy walks over, joining them. "Make it two."

"Sales must be slipping, kid. If they're only serving the soft stuff." Sally said displeased. He may be a rock star to everyone else, but not to his disapproving mother.

"Hey Dad." Piper said trying to break the tension.

"Hey sweetie." Percy replied, smiling down at his daughter. He turned to Sally. "Mother."

"Shh. Not so loud. I'm still hoping to get lucky." She chastised.

"Did you tell Rachel I was having trouble writing?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"I told her nothing of the sort." She said with a off look. "I may have said you spend your days moping around the house in your underwear waiting for post time at Belmont, but hey, you're an artist. It's expected, right?"

"We had an agreement. I let you live with us and you don't talk about my work."

What's there to talk about? You haven't done any since I moved in." She declared.

"Gran!"

"Well, he hasn't." She argued.

"Whatever I have and haven't done, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't share it with my ex-wife."

"Oh, what's the harm? If you ask me, she's still in love with you."

"If by love you mean hate, then yes, she is still very, very much in love with me." Percy corrected.

"Right. So what's the big deal?" She asked.

"You're missing the point.." He reasoned. She hold up her hand to him. "Hang on. I just got a hit on my Grey- dar." Sally said locking eyes with a man across the room. He had country club looks and a spray-on tan. As he lifts his glass of champagne to his lips, Sally scans his fingers. "Bingo. No ring."

"Mum." He sighed.

"Later kid. Mother's going fishing." She said, disappearing into the crowd. "You should have me committed." He groaned, looking at his daughter with tired eyes.

"For letting her move in? I think it's sweet." She smiled.

"You won't think it's sweet when I strangle her in her sleep." The bartender puts the two glasses of champagne on the bar. Percy slides one of the champagne flutes towards Piper.

"You do know I'm only fifteen right?" Piper stated with a frown. Percy just shrugs it off.

"You're an old soul."

"Me and my soul can wait." She said pushing the glass back.

"You know, when I was your age." He stopped, thinking to himself. "Ah. Can't tell that one... Wildly inappropriate. Which is, oddly, my point. Don't you want to have wildly inappropriate stories that you can't tell your children?"

"I think you've got enough of those for both of us."

"Life should be an adventure. You know why I killed off Derrick? There were no more surprises. I knew exactly what was going to happen at every moment in every scene. It's all become so goddamn predictable. Like this party." He said gesturing around him.

"Just once, I'd like someone to come up to me at one of these things and say something really unexpected."

"Mr Jackson?" Percy turns to see a detective approaching with a pair of officers at her sides. She held up her badge. "Detective Annabeth Chase. NYPD. I need to take you in for questioning."

Piper and Percy exchanged a look. "That's new."

* * *

Percy sits in an NYPD interrogation room. Annabeth enters holding some files. "Mr. Jackson... You have quite the rap sheet for a bestselling author. A couple of drunk and disorderlies. Disturbing the peace." Percy laughs.

"Says here you stole a police horse?" She questioned.

"Borrowed." He corrected.

"And you were nude at the time?"

"It was spring."

"And every time the charges were dropped." She stated.

"What can I say? The mayor's a fan. But if it makes you feel better, I'd be happy to let you spank me."

"Mr. Jackson, this whole bad boy charm thing you've got going may work with bimbettes and celebutantes. Me? I work for a living and that makes you one of two things to me. The guy who makes my life easier or the guy who makes my life harder, and I assure you, you do not want to be the guy who makes my life harder." Annabeth threatened, throwing down a photo of the deceased.

"Elizabeth Tisdale. Daughter of real estate mogul Jonathan Tisdale."

"She's cute."

"She's dead." She interrupted. "You guys ever meet? Charity event? Book signing?" Annabeth asked, staring down at Percy with an intimidating stare.

"It's possible, but she's not in my little black book if that's what you're asking." Percy answered.

"How about this guy?" Annabeth inquired sliding over a photo of a man in his 40s. "Martin Fisk. Small claims lawyer."

Percy examined the photo. "Most of my claims tend to be on the large side." He replied looking up at Annabeth. "What's this got to do with me?"

"Fisk was murdered in his office two weeks ago. I didn't put it together until I saw the Tisdale crime scene tonight." She said, putting a photo of the Tisdale crime scene on the table. Roses and sunflower covered the body. "This is how we found her."

Percy leans forward, and recognizes the scene. "Flowers for Your Grave." Annabeth places another photo of Martin Fisk on the table. He's lying face down in a pentagram. "This is how we found Martin Fisk. Right out of Hell Hath No Fury."

Percy looks up at Annabeth, his tone serious. "Looks like I have a fan."

"A really deranged fan."

"You don't look deranged to me." Percy joked.

"What?"

"Hell Hath No Fury? Angry wiccans out for blood? Come on. Only hardcore groupies read that one."

He grins at her. She moves on. "You get letters from these groupies? Disturbing letters?" She questioned.

"All my fan mail's disturbing. It's an occupational hazard."

"Sometimes in cases like these, the killer attempts to."

Before she could finish Percy interrupted. "Contact the subject of his obsession. I'm pretty well-versed in psychopath methodology. Another occupational have gorgeous eyes by the way." Annabeth doesn't take bait.

"So you'd have no objection to us looking through your mail."

"Knock yourself out." He replied looking at the gruesome crime scene photos. "Hey, can I get a copy of these? I've got this poker game, mostly other writers. You know, Patterson, Grafton, King. I can't tell you how jealous these would make them."

"Jealous?" Annabeth asked.

"That I have a copycat. In my world, that's the red badge of honor. The criminal Cooperstown."

She looked at him shocked. "People are dead, Mr. Jackson. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"I'm not asking for the bodies. Just the pictures." Percy said, pointing to the photos.

"Doesn't it bother you that these people were killed because of you?"

"They weren't killed because of me, Detective. They were killed because some psycho finally snapped. If it wasn't me, it would've been Black Sabbath or reruns of Full House."

"I think we're done here." Annabeth replied, walking out of the room. Percy watched her go, a little bit pleased he had gotten under her skin.

* * *

Percy enters his Penthouse apartment. From the living room he can hear the sound of his mother singing. Or rather belting out. He checks his watch and shakes his head. It's almost 1'oclock in the morning.

He walks in to the living room and sees Sally standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a leotard and tights, performing like she's center stage at the Winter Gardens. Sat at the piano is the guy from the party. He sits there tinkling the ivories and drinking a Martini.

As Percy crosses the living room, Sally notices him. "Hey honey." She smiled before starting to sing again. Percy heads down the hallway.

Percy can still faintly hear her singing in the background as he entered the kitchen, Walking over to the fridge. He grabs a can of whipped cream and noticed Piper sat at the kitchen table doing homework.

"You're missing the late show."

"I saw it in previews."

He shakes the whipped cream can and sprays a mound of it into directly into his mouth. "Looks like we've got a new lead."

"His name is Burt. He does magic." She mocked.

"Let's hope he disappears by morning. C'est apres minuit dans une school night. Don't you turn into a pumpkin or something?" Percy joked.

"Not if your Dad's escorted away by the police. How was the slammer? Anyone make you their bitch?"

"Sorry, Switchblade. I still belong to you." Percy said with a cheesy smile.

"So you wanna tell me, or do I have to read it on the fan sites?" Piper asked.

"I thought we had a deal. Surf all the porn you want. Just stay away from the fan sites."

Piper looked at him seriously and asked, "Seriously, Dad. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Despite my best efforts, no. They want my help on a case." He replied, holding the whipped cream above her mouth, offering some to her. She shakes her head.

"What's the case?" She inquired.

"Apparently, someone's been killing people the way I do in my books." He answered.

Her face turned to a look of horror. "Oh god. That's awful."

"Yeah. There have been two so far" Percy explained

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just so senseless."

"Murder usually is." Piper stated.

"No. Murder usually makes a great deal of sense. Passion, greed, politics. What's senseless here are the stories the killer chose." Percy replied. He put down the cream. "Flower For your Grave? Hell Hath No Fury? My truly lesser works. Why would a psychotic fan pick those?"

"Maybe because he's psychotic." Piper suggested.

Piper headed of up the stairs to bed. Percy goes into his office. He sat at his desk and stared at his laptop. As he lent forward, his reflection appeared in the screen. His fingers hovered above the keyboard like he was about to start writing but instead he clicked his writing window closed and opened google. He typed in Elizabeth Tisdale and started making notes.

* * *

Annabeth came into the room with officers carrying the bags of mail. "Set these up in interrogation three. Have we heard from the lab yet?"

"DNA and prints are negative, just like Fisk. Guy was careful." Grover answered taking a sip of his coffee.

"Any connection between Fisk and Tisdale?" She questioned.

"Other than your boy there, no." He replied, nodding across the room. Annabeth sees Percy across the way, talking with captain Chiron - Annabeth's gruff but paternal boss.

"What's he doing here?" Annabeth asked Grover.

"Maybe he likes you."

Chiron calls her over. "Detective Chase." Annabeth rolled her eyes and joined them.

"Captain?"

"Mr. Jackson has offered to assist with the investigation." He declared.

"It's the least I can do for the city I love." Replied with a cocky smile

"Given the circumstances, I think it's a good idea." Chiron stated.

"Sir, can I speak to you a moment? Privately." Annabeth asks. They move into his office. "No. Uh-uh. Absolutely not."

"Detective."

"I'm in the middle of a murder investigation. I do not have time to babysit some dime-store novelist who wants to play cop." She argued.

I'm not asking you to babysit, Detective. I'm asking you to use every resource we have to catch this son-of- a-bitch before we're knee deep in bodies and press. He knows his fans better than anyone. If there's a needle in that haystack, he may be the only guy who can recognize it. Do I make myself clear?" Chiron lectured.

"Yes, sir."

Annabeth came out to see a smiling Percy. "What's so funny?"

"You got told off."

"Hardly."

"I read lips."

Annabeth heads to the interrogation room. Percy followed, trying to keep up. "Look, why don't we just start over." He suggested.

"What's the point?"

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I came off as a..."

"A callous self-centered jackass?" Annabeth interrupted.

"Something like that."

"Well, aren't you?" She turns to look at Percy who gives her a shrug. "Yeah. So why start over?" Annabeth pushed through the door into the interrogation room.

* * *

Officers dump the contents of a couple bags onto a large table. Annabeth grabs some evidence gloves and pulls them on. "Okay, people. I want two piles - Ordinary fan mail here, and anything remotely threatening here."

"This'll take hours." One of the officers said to his partner.

"You got somewhere else to be, Gomez?" Annabeth asked

"No, ma'am." He replied.

"For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, this is Percy Jackson, the writer and inspiration for our perp. He will be assisting. Feel free to ask him every annoying question you can possibly think of." She paused and then added. "Alright people. Let's go."

The officers begin tearing through it. Percy pulls on his own pair of evidence gloves and takes a seat by Annabeth.

* * *

Hours later in the interrogation room, Annabeth and Percy are still going threw the stacks of mail. Stacks of letters and empty envelopes litter the floor. coffee cups are scattered across the table.

Annabeth looked up and caught Percy looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, the way your brow furrows when you're thinking. It's cute." He replied but then added. "I mean not if you're playing poker. Then it'd be deadly, but otherwise."

"Can I ask you a question?" Annabeth asked.

"Shoot."

"Why are you here? You don't care about the victims, so you aren't here for justice. You don't care it's your books, so you aren't here for outrage. So what? Are you here just to annoy me?"

He takes a moment to consider her question. "I'm here for the story."

"The story?"

"Why those people? Why those murders? Why my books?" Percy questioned.

"Sometimes there is no story. Sometimes the guy's just a psychopath."

"There's always a story, always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. Take you for example... Under normal circumstances, you shouldn't be here. Smart, good looking women become lawyers, not detectives. And yet here you are. Why?" Percy asked.

"You're the novelist. You tell me."

"You're not bridge and tunnel, no trace of the burroughs when you talk. That means Manhattan and that means money. Odds are you went to college, probably a good one. You had options, lots of options, better options, more socially acceptable options. And yet you chose this. That tells me something must have happened. Not to you - you're wounded but not that wounded. It was someone you cared about. Someone you loved. And you could've probably lived with that, except the person responsible was never caught. And that, Detective Chase, is why you're here."

From the look on her face he knows that he's right. "Cute trick. But don't think that means you know me."

"Point is, Detective, there's always a story. You just have to find it." He replied.

Annabeth looks down at the letter in her hand. Scrawled on it are very disturbing childish pictures of murders, including the rose petal murder and the pentagram murder.

"I think I just did."

* * *

The precinct was filled with controlled chaos and ringing phones. Homicide detectives sit at their desks working on cases. Annabeth is at her file-covered desk on the phone.

Percy is with Grover standing by the board, re-examining the photos of Elizabeth Tisdale and Martin Fisk.

"You know in "Dead Man's Chest," when those fishermen find that body stuffed in a crabpot?" Grover asked.

"Yeah."

"How do you come up with that stuff?"

"Congenital defect. My mother drank a lot of gin when she was pregnant." Percy replied looking over at Annabeth. "How about her? What's her deal?"

"Highest cleared case percentage. Youngest woman to make detective. I guess that's what happens when your mother's murdered. You end up working the job the way alcoholics work the bottle." He answered.

Annabeth hangs up the phone. "Looks like we got lucky. They got a print off the letter."

"Whose?"

"This isn't one of your books, Mr Jackson. Our system's backlogged. It'll take at least a week to run a match."

"Assuming there's one in the system." Grover interjected.

"A week?"

"Welcome to reality, Superstar." Annabeth responded.

"I never liked reality much." Percy said, pulling out his phone and dials. "Denise? It's Percy Jackson. Is he in?" He turns to Annabeth, "Like I said, the Mayor's a fan."

He taps his fingers on her desk, waiting for an answer. "Yo, big cheese... It's Percy. Good, good. Yeah. Of course." He walked away as he continued the conversation.

A couple minuets later Percy hangs up the phone and walks back over. "You'll have it in an hour."

"Mr Jackson. We don't jump the line. We have a procedure." Annabeth replied with a stern voice.

"I think someone feels threatened."

"I'm not threatened."

At that moment Jason comes running up to them. "They just found another one."

* * *

A woman floats face down in a pool. She was wearing a green evening gown with a tiara. A knife sticks out of her back like a fin.

"Death of a Prom Queen." Percy stated. He and Annabeth were standing next to the pool with some officers.

"Maintenance found her about forty minutes ago." One of the officers said.

"Have we got an ID?" Annabeth asked.

"Kendra Philips. She lives in the building."

"Let's get her out of the water." Annabeth pointed to Percy. "You. Wait over there. And don't touch anything."

* * *

The woman's body is on the ground on blankets, lying face down. Forensics scours the rooftop deck for evidence. Annabeth, Grover and Jason speak with the buildings maintenance man.

"This time of year, no one uses it much. We were going drain it at the end of the week." He declared.

"When were you up here last?" Annabeth inquired.

"Yesterday afternoon." He answered.

"That would've given the killer about a 24-hour window." Grover stated, writing it down. "You mind showing us her apartment?" Jason asked.

"No. Of course." He replied. Annabeth starts to follow, but sees Percy hovering over Thalia as she examined the body. She sighed.

* * *

Thalia was examining the body. Percy leans over her, startling her. "Sorry. Hi, Percy Jackson. I'm consulting." He said reaching his hand out.

"Percy Jackson, the author?" Thalia asked taking it.

"On my better days." He replied.

"Thalia Grace. Medical Examiner. I love your books."

"Thanks."

"You know, you have a real gift with the details of death." She complimented.

"High praise from an medical examiner." He smiled. Annabeth walked over and joined them. "Do you ever do what your told?" She asked.

He flashed her a cocky smile. "I got lonely." She turns to Thalia and asks her. "Do you have a cause of death?"

"Not until the full exam. But I don't think she was stabbed." Thalia answered.

"She's got a knife sticking out of her back." Annabeth stated.

Percy interrupted Thalia before she can answer. "Lack of blood around the wound suggests she was dead before it was inserted. And there's no foam around the mouth, so we know she didn't drown."

"Oh, you're good." Thalia praised.

"She was killed and posed. Like the others."

"Mr Jackson. Can I have a word?" Annabeth pulled him aside and Percy flashed her an innocent look. "Something wrong?" He asked.

"This is a homicide investigation with multiple victims, not a day at Disneyland. When I give you an order I expect you to obey it."

"Then you don't know me very well." He commented, looking down at the body. "In my book the dress was blue."

"Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not. Listen, did Fisk and Tisdale know each other?"

"We haven't found a connection, aside from your books." She replied.

"What about motive?" He asked. Annabeth's phone rings.

"He's a serial killers. He doesn't need motive." Annabeth said answering her phone. "Chase... Yeah. You have an address? Yeah... Got it. Thanks." She hanged up the phone "We got a match off the print."

* * *

Annabeth's car pulls up at an apartment building followed by three other squad cars. She un-holstered her gun and turned to Percy, vaguely threatening. "Stay here."

"Scout's honor." He promised. Annabeth got out of the car and headed towards the building with the other officers.

* * *

Officers flanked a door with their weapons drawn. Annabeth knocked.

"Kyle Fogerty! NYPD! Open up!"

No answer. Annabeth stepped aside and two officers slammed a ram into the door. It burst open. Annabeth is the first through, her weapon at the ready.

Moving through the apartment, the officers broke off into different rooms, yelling "Clear" as they cleared the rooms. Annabeth walked into the living room. No one's was there. She walked up to the bookcase that was standing against the left wall. It was filled with Percy Jackson's books, and only Percy Jackson's books. Most of them were dog-eared from multiple reads. She pulled on gloves and took one off the shelf. The pages were highlighted and notes were written in the margin.

"Detective. You gotta see this." One of the officers said.

The officer opened a closet. Inside was a psycho mural collage of Percy Jackson photos and crude childish drawings just like the letter she found.

"Well that's creepy." Annabeth turned around to see Percy right behind her.

"You promised you'd stay."

"What? I was never a scout." He smiled.

"Detective." Another officer pulled a garbage bag out from under the bed. He stuck his gloved hand in and pulled out bloody clothing. Annabeth checked the blouse, it had two bullet holes in it.

"Tisdale's clothing." The officer reached in again and pulled out a gun. Annabeth looked disgusted.

* * *

In a Greek diner around the corner from the apartment. A geeky looking kid oblivious to the world around him, mops the floor intensely while murmuring to himself. There was something a little off about him.

His mop hit someone's boot and he looked up to see Annabeth. "Careful, floor's wet."

She held her badge up.

"Kyle Fogerty. You're under arrest for the murders of Martin Fisk, Kendra Phillips, and Elizabeth Tisdale." The officers moved in to cuff him. Kyle turned to the restaurant owner and shouted,"Mr Papidakis, they're touching me."

"I'm sorry, Kyle." He replied.

"They're touching me! They're touching me! They're touching me!" He screamed. He started to freak, screaming bloody murder, as the officer tried to subdue him.

* * *

In the interrogation room Kyle Fogerty sat alone, rocking back and forth. Percy, Annabeth and Chiron stand behind the glass watching him. "State medical records say he's got pervasive developmental disorder." Annabeth stated looking down at a brown file.

"That explains his fixation. PDD sometimes manifests in an obsession with a single subject." Percy replied.

"Well your superfan also had a history of delusions. He was on anti-psychotics." She finished as Grover and Jason entered.

"I just got off with Social Services. Guess who his caseworker was?" Jason asked.

"Elizabeth Tisdale." Annabeth replied.

"Part of the volunteer work for her degree. She placed him in his job at the diner. Turns out Kyle didn't look too far for his victims. According to the owner, Martin Fisk and Kendra Phillips were both customers."

"Doesn't this seem a little too easy?" Percy asked.

"We got the guy. That's all there is too it." Grover stated looking at Percy.

"The kid can barely mop a floor. How can you think it's him?" Percy questioned.

"Oh, I don't know. He had the murder weapon and the victim's belongings at his house? Come on. This one's airtight." Grover argued.

"That's the problem. It's too easy. The reader would never buy it." Percy declared.

"This isn't one of your books, Percy. We think what the evidence tells us to think. Out here, if we find a guy standing over a body with a gun, he's the guy that did it." Annabeth replied as they continue up the hall, leaving Percy a little stunned.

* * *

A poker game was in session. Cigar smoke was in the air. Some of the most famous authors sat around the table. Stephan King, James Patterson and of course, Percy Jackson. King threw in some chips.

"That's twenty to you, Patterson."

"You're bluffing." Patterson replied.

"Pay up and you'll find out." Patterson tossed in chips. Percy just stared at his cards.

"Bet's to you, Percy. Percy?"

"I know that look. Story trouble." King guessed. "Should've never killed off Storm, Percy. You should've crippled him."

"Or retired him. The man was money." Patterson interrupted.

"What's the problem?" King asked.

"I'm having trouble with this story I'm writing. It starts with a famous writer who gets brought in because it turns out some psycho is staging murders like in his books. The crime scenes are clean. No prints, no DNA. But the psycho writes the author a fan letter and his prints are on it. The police are able to track him down and in the apartment is all the evidence they need for a conviction."

"OK. Then what happens?" Patterson inquired.

"That's it."

"That's it?" King asked.

"Yeah. They arrest him." Percy answered. The other writers looked at each other and then laughed.

"Jesus, that's terrible. No wonder you're blocked." Patterson joked. "Guy doesn't leave prints at the scene, but sends a letter with prints? Right there, you lost me."

"Yeah, I mean where's the twist?" King added looking at Percy. "What your story needs is a character that thinks the kid is innocent and keeps digging until he finds the truth." A funny look crossed Percy's face then he smiled.

"I know just the guy." He said laying down his cards on the table. The others groaned as he took the pot.

* * *

**So what do you think? I love hearing your opinion. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN - I was going to post this on Friday but I felt like it was burning a hole in my ****documents so I uploaded it today instead.**

**I would like to say thank you to all the people who followed, favorited and reviewed.**

**ChickenSurvivor****, ****GM12****, ****GoldenAppleGirl9****8, ****Jake Wolf****, ****Mystery Angle****, A****nthane****,**

**O****bsessedwithbooks206****, P****otterblacklupin-4ever**** and ****Maximoscarnage**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to Rick Riordan and the themes and plots belong to the creators of Castle.**

**Sorry for any mistakes**

**Personly I don't think this was as good as the first part because to me i**

**Doesn't seem to flow that well :(**

* * *

**Chapter ****2**

**Flowers for Your Grave**

**(Part ****2****)**

* * *

Annabeth entered the station to find Percy sat at her desk, reading through her papers. "What are you doing?" She asked him. She snatched the papers from his hand and sliped them back into their file.

"Novelist's habit. Peeking through medicine cabinets, reading other people's mail." Percy joked, looking up at her.

"My files are confidential."

"Worse than that. They're boring." He replied.

She looked at him annoyed. "Why are you here?" She questioned.

"I just came down here to give you this. A little something to memorialize our brief partnership." He reached into his bag and produced a gift-wrapped box. He handed it to her with a smile. "Don't look so suspicious. Go on. Open it." Inside was copy of Storm's End. He stood up next to her and opened it up to the first page. "Look. I even signed it for you. Not that I think you're a fan."

"Thank you. That's actually kind of sweet." He caught her with his eye and flashed her a seductive smile. "Well..." He replied.

"Well." She repeated.

"Nice to have met you, Detective Chase." He replied, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek before turning around and walking away. As she watched him go her face betrayed a little emotion. She sunk down in her chair for a moment. Then she turned back to her desk. She shuffled her files. Something was missing. She sorted through her papers, a little panicked.

"He didn't." She looked through them again and her eyes narrowed. "He did!" She jumped up off her seat and ran after him.

"Mr Jackson!" She shouted.

Percy heard her calling and burst out the door. He bounded down the steps, his arm waving. "Taxi!"

Annabeth burst out the front door to see Percy disappearing into the rear of a yellow cab. She stood on the steps furious. Percy looked back at her on the steps of the precinct and grinned. He reached into his bag, pulled out the case files and started to read.

* * *

Percy sat in the corner of the long hall with the case files spread out in front of him. He sorted through the arrest reports, jotted some notes and examined the crime scene photographs with a magnifying glass. A librarian placed a stack of books on the table next to him. He smiled at her and continued his examination.

At the far end of the hall, Annabeth entered with two officers at her side. She crossed the hall till she was standing next to him.

"You're a conniving, scheming, despicable liar."

"You say that like it's my fault. Would you have showed me the files if I'd asked?"

"No." She answered.

"So you admit you left me no choice." Annabeth shook her head, exasperated. "Cuff him." Percy seemed to be in a state of bewilderment as the officers began to cuff him. "Mmm. Bondage. What's my safe word?" He joked.

"Percy Jackson, you're under arrest on charges of felony theft and obstruction of justice."she stated.

"You forgot making you look bad."

"You know, for a minute there you made me think you were human." She turned to the officers. "No need to be gentle." Annabeth began packing up the files, starting with the photo of a flower covered Elizabeth Tisdale.

"By the way, the rose petals in the Tisdale murder? They're grandiflora, not hybrid teas."

"I'll make a note of it." Allison replied.

"Yeah, you probably should. Because it means that Kyle Fogerty is innocent."

The officers pushed Percy into the car. Annabeth drove while Percy sat in the backseat with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"The kind of rose petal might not be important to you or to the murderer, but to a PDD with an obsessive fixation it would've been impossible not to get the details right." Percy explained.

Annabeth didn't move her eyes from the road. "So he was sloppy." She said, unfazed by what he had said.

"An obsessive's incapable of being sloppy about their obsession. The release comes from getting the details absolutely right." He clarified, struggling against the cuffs to lean forward. "If you ask me, these killing are the work of a second rate mind."

"No one asked you."

"Thalia's report says Fisk was strangled with a neck-tie, not suffocated by a plastic bag like in the story. And we both know Kendra's dress was green, not blue like it was in the story." Percy stated.

"And the evidence all over his apartment? His knowledge of all three victims? I suppose you have a theory about that."

"I said he didn't do it. I didn't say he wasn't framed." Percy answered.

* * *

Percy sat on the bed singing, much to the others dismay. Sighs and choruses of "Shut up!" Echo through the jail room.

"Jackson! Percy Jackson! You made bail." One of the guards shouted As he fumbled for his keys. When he walked out of the holding room he was greeted by Piper and Sally who were waiting with Annabeth and Captain Chiron.

"Dad" Piper said wrapping her arms around Percy.

Martha looked around at the people stood next to her and informed. "Well, I wish I could say I was surprised. It's my fault really. He never had a father figure."

"That's not true, Mother. I had lots of father figures. I see you've met Detective Chase and Captain Chiron."

"They have agreed to drop the charges, if you agree to behave." Piper stated.

"No more interference in this case, Mr. Jackson. Do we understand each other?" Chiron questioned with a stern look on his face.

"Yeah. We understand each other. But tell me something, Captain. When did pursuing the truth become a bad thing?" Percy asked, shooting Annabeth a disapproving look. She shrunk a little. "Come on. Let's get out of here." Percy said putting his arm around Piper's shoulders.

Annabeth followed them out and watched the three of them get into a town car. Percy turned as he got in and locked eyes with her. Then shut the door behind him. Annabeth opened the doors and walked back into the precinct. As she headed back to her desk. Grover sauntered up to her and said, "You like him." with a knowing look.

"No I don't. He's and Annoying, Arrogant jerk. She said, pushing past him and sitting down. Percy's book is was still laying on her desk. She opened it. Then put it down. She hesitated for a moment before picking up the case files.

* * *

Percy, Piper and Sally sit in the backseat of the town car exchanging casual small talk. Percy looked at the dividing screen for a few seconds, deep in thought. His eyes light up juts realizing something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile.

"New York. The number for Jonathan Tisdale."

Piper looked at him confused and asked him, "What are you doing?"

"If Kyle Fogerty was set up, then we aren't dealing with a serial killer. We're dealing with someone trying to get away with murder, someone who knew enough about Kyle Fogerty's fixation with me to use it to cover his tracks." Percy explained.

"You're supposed to drop the case." Piper said frustrated.

"But it's just starting to make sense! The killer had to have known both his intended victim and Kyle Fogerty. But the only victim that had any real knowledge of Fogerty's condition was Elizabeth Tisdale. I think that's how he found out about Fogerty. I think Elizabeth told him."

There was a upbeat feeling in Percy's voice. "I think Elizabeth was the killer's target all along."

"What about the other victims?" Piper asked.

"Red herrings to throw off the cops. Even if our guy pins Elizabeth's murder on Fogerty, the cops are going want motive. It's not open and shut. So instead of offing just Elizabeth, he targets people that can be linked back to Kyle Fogerty. No one looks for motive, because mentally unstable serial killers don't have motive."

A murmur on the other side of the phone drew his attention from his daughter. "Yes? Thanks..." He said, scribbling down a number.

"Dad." She pleaded.

Percy hung up and dialed the number he had wrote down. Sally turned to Piper and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "It's no use, kid. Might as well enjoy the ride."

"But our guy had motive. He wanted Elizabeth Tisdale dead. I just need to find out why." Percy stated.

"Dad, if I have to keep bailing you out, I'm going to seriously need you to raise my allowance." Piper joked. "You need to raise it by a lot."

* * *

Percy walked by himself, hiding behind his sunglasses. His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket.

"Percy."

"Why aren't you writing?" Rachel questioned.

Percy silently cursed himself for picking up. "How do you know I'm not?" He asked. Rachel sighed, frustrated. "Because you answered the phone. Now when am I going to see some pages?" She inquired, annoyance evident in her tone.

"What... crsshhh... sorry... crssshhh... you're breaking up." He lied.

"Really, Percy? Fake reception loss?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. That was childish." He said, hanging up as he arrived at the building where Johnathan Tisdale worked. He walked up to the reception deck where a pretty young woman stood. "Hi. Percy Jackson. I have an appointment with Mr. Tisdale." He declared smiling at her. The receptionist smiled back at him before checking her list.

"Go on up, He's expecting you."

Annabeth appeared behind him and asked, "Is he now?" Percy turned to face her and said, "This isn't what it looks like. Okay. It's exactly what it looks like. But I can explain."

Annabeth sighed. She headed towards an open elevator and got in. "Well, are you coming?" Percy looked around, confused, and then followed her into the elevator. The doors closed behind them. Percy looked at Annabeth who stared straight ahead. "Aren't you going to arrest me?" He questioned.

"I haven't decided yet."

"Great. What are you doing here anyway? I thought the case was closed."

"It is." Annabeth confirmed while she walked out into the hallway.

"Oh I get it." Percy said, cracking a grin. "You think I'm right, don't you?"

"You know the difference between playing a cop and being a cop, Nick? It's important for you to be right. However I can't afford to be wrong." She paused for a moment before adding, "So while you spent the morning, doing what? Playing Guitar Hero and drinking Bloody Marys?"

He nodded, letting she's not so far off. "Yeah, I was re-interviewing witnesses, victim's friends, families, co- workers. You know, police stuff." she finished, ringing the doorbell.

"What'd you learn?" Percy asked.

She looked directly at him and said,"Nothing to make me change my mind."

"Yet." Percy interrupted. After a couple minuets a gaunt man in his late sixties appeared. The bags under his eyes showed that the last few days hadn't been kind to him.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"NYPD, We need to ask you a few questions." Annabeth replied. He pushed the door open further and stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. He led them down a hallway full of expensive artwork. He stopped in front of a massive pair of doors and threw them open.

The inside of the room was filled with wood paneling, Beautiful designed wooden furniture and two large bookshelves filled with dozens of books. At the back of the room was a ginormous window that covered the whole of the wall. The view was amazing. Tisdale walked over to his desk and looked at them with sad eyes. He held up a picture of Elizabeth. "It's against the natural order for a man to outlive his own child." He said sadly.

"Did Elizabeth ever mention having enemies or being threatened?" Annabeth questioned. Tisdale shook his head.

"People loved her. All she wanted was to make the world a better place and this is how she's repaid." He paused for a second before adding, "I told all this to the other detective."

"We're just following up."

"Do you know of anybody who would've profited from Elizabeth's death?" Percy inquired.

"Profited? Mr. Jackson, I'm rich. My daughter was not. She hated money. What little she had went to charity." He answered turning to Annabeth. "What's this all about? I thought the killer was in custody?"

"He is, Mr. Tisdale. Thank you for your time. We're sorry to have bothered you." Annabeth apologized. She rised to leave, but Percy held his ground.

"Mr. Tisdale, Fortune Magazine estimates your net worth at nearly a quarter of a billion dollars. Is that true?"

"I don't keep track day to day."

"But it's a lot, yes?" Percy guessed.

"I've been lucky, yes." Tisdale answered suspiciously.

"Out of curiosity, what happens to all that money if something happened to you?"

"Jackson..." Annabeth pleaded. Percy shot her a look.

"Half my estate goes to my charitable foundation. The rest goes to my children..." He said with a painful exprssion. "I mean my son. Why?"

"Just curious. Thank you for your time."

Percy and Annabeth walked out together. Annabeth noticed Percy's knowing look. On the way out of the elevator she turned to him and asked, "What was that about?"

"He's dying."

"Who's dying? Tisdale?" Annabeth asked really confused.

Down the street was a hot dog cart. Percy pointed towards it and asked, "You want one?" He crossed the road and walked over to the hot dog stand. She quickly hurried after him, trying to catch up.

"Two please."

"Jackson..."

"A Buddhist walked up to a hot dog cart. The owner looks at him and says What can I get you, pal? The Buddhist says Make me one with everything." Annabeth looked at him not understanding. "The guy says that'll be two fifty. The Buddhist hands him a five and asks for change. The guy just smiles and says change comes from within."

With unbelievable speed, Annabeth grabbed his nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Ow Ow Ow. What are you doing?" Percy yelled in pain.

"Getting your attention. Now that I have it, what makes you think he's dying?" Annabeth asked.

"Okay." Percy said calming down. Annabeth looked over at the owner and said, "No onions on mine. I'm not a Buddhist." She released Percy's nose.

He rubbed it for a couple minuets before explaining his idea. "Okay. First clue - the pictures on the wall. He's thinner now. Sick thin, not workout thin."

"His daughter was just murdered..." Annabeth stated.

"Second clue - the way he touched his hair. Like he was self-conscious."

"You think it was a piece?"

Percy glanced at her and nodded. "A good one, but it's new for him. The chemo's relatively recent."

So he's fighting cancer. That doesn't make him terminal.

Percy finished his hot dog and threw the wrapper in a nearby bin. "It's a much better story if he is. Did you interview the brother?"

"There was never a reason to." Annabeth explained.

"Well, now there is."

* * *

Annabeth and Percy arrived at the docks. In the background cranes lifted shipping containers and place them on the ground. They got out of the car and walked over to a man standing by the loading dock. He was signing invoices while talking on his cell.

"Harrison Tisdale?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah. Hey Mitch! Why aren't these pallets on the truck?" He shouted at a passing worker.

"Detective Chase. Percy Jackson. We'd like to ask you some questions about your sister."

Harrison turned to look at them. His attention now solely on them. "Okay."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Annabeth asked.

"About a month ago at Dad's."

"Were you two close?" she questioned.

Harrison shook his head and said, "Not really. Honestly, we didn't have much in common, aside from our last name. She always wanted to see the best in everyone..."

"And you live in the real world."

"That's right. Like that guy who killed her. She did everything to help him. Even brought him here and begged me to give him a job. I mean this is a business, not a charity. My employees mess up, I lose my money. I don't know... Maybe if I had helped him, things would be different. Maybe she'd still be alive. Or then again, maybe we'd both be dead."

"How did your sister react when your Dad informed you he was dying?" Annabeth asked. Harrison looked at her surprised but managed to cover it.

"She was upset. We both were." Percy and Annabeth shared a look. He was lying.

Harrison looked at them uneasily. "What does that have to do with her murder?"

"We did a little digging. Your business is struggling. Your tens of millions in debt. With her out of the way, your inheritance stands to double."

"Is this some kind of joke? You already caught the killer."

"Yeah, and the first thing his lawyers will do is shift suspicion to someone else, someone with motive. And then they'll put me on the stand and ask me why I didn't investigate. Then the jury's going have doubts. You want justice for your sister, right?" Annabeth inquired.

"Of course."

"Then you won't mind telling us where you were the night of her murder."

"I was traveling on business." He answered a little too fast. Harrison opened his desk and pulled out a passport. He handed it to Annabeth. "Check the stamps and you'll find I was out of the country for all three murders."

* * *

"U.S. Passport, Airtight alibi, absolutely unassailable and a total lie." Annabeth stated. Percy looked at her, surprised.

"What happened to your earlier opinion?"

"Which one?"

"The one about only thinking what the evidence tells us to think?"

"He knew exactly when his sister was killed, but the other two victims? He didn't pause. He didn't ask what the dates were. He didn't even look at his calendar and he was still ready with an alibi. In my experience, innocent people don't prepare alibis."

"So what now?" Percy asked.

"I'll call passport control and check their logs. See if those stamps were forged."

"That's not how he would've done it. It'd be too easy to get caught. He would of had a second passport. Black market. Leaves the country on his own. Comes back on the other, commits the murder, flies back, and then returns home on his own. Airtight alibi. The perfect murder."

"And almost impossible to prove."

"Unless you find the passport." Percy added.

"If it even exists. If we're even right." She replied.

Percy looked at her with a genuine smile and laughed. "Come on. We were having fun. Don't go all skeptical on me now."

"Here's a fun fact. Judges don't grant search warrants based on conjecture. We need evidence."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem for the youngest woman ever to make detective." Percy replied, smiling at her.

"You just better be right."

* * *

Percy entered the precinct with a couple of cups of coffee. He placed a latte on Annabeth's desk. She was finishing a phone call. "Oui. Oui. Merci."

She hung up and turned to Percy. "That was the Paris hotel Tisdale stayed at the night of his sister's murder. Housekeeping remembered him because his room went vacant for two days."

"Paris is only a five hour flight."

"I got the same story from the hotel in Mexico City where he was during the Fisk murder and the London Hotel during the Phillips murder." She said.

"I'm impressed."

Annabeth grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. "You're not the one issuing the warrant."

* * *

Percy sat on a bench outside the judges' chamber, waiting. Across the way from him, sitting on a bench was a young boy and his mother. The mother was buried in a magazine.

Percy locked eyes with the boy. He made a funny face at him and the boy mimicked it. Percy made an even funnier face. The boy stuck out his tongue. Percy started to get really competitive. He pulled his lips up and his eyelids down.

Annabeth came out of the judges' chamber. She grabbed him by the hand and yanked him off the bench. "You're like a child."

Percy smirked at her and asked, "Did you get it?" She nodded and waved the paper in her hand around.

* * *

Annabeth's car pulled to a stop around the corner from Tisdale's apartment building. Two police cars pulled up behind her.

"Jackson, do me a favor and grab the warrant from the glove compartment."

Percy reached back into the car and pulled out the warrant. As he did, Annabeth grabbed his wrist and handcuffed him.

She smiled and said, "This time you're staying put." Annabeth snatched the warrant and headed up the sidewalk.

"Okay. Very funny. Come on Annabeth! The joke is over! Annabeth!" Percy shouted as she rounded the corner and disappeared. Percy looked at his cuffed hand, then slid his other hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Cuff me once, shame on you. Cuff me twice..." he muttered, opening his wallet and pulling out a key. "... Shame on me."

But the key slipped out of his hand and hit the ground. He went to pick it up, but because he was cuffed he couldn't reach it.

* * *

Harrison stood inside his apartment, shredding the Fogerty files. He tried to feed too many sheets in, and the shredder jammed. He desperately fiddled with the shredder, trying to get it to work. When he heard Annabeth shouting, he panicked. He looked down at the files, only half shredded. Stuck in the shredder was a picture of Fogerty.

Annabeth knocked again and shouted, "NYPD, open up!"

Making up his mind, Harrison grabbed the papers and stuffed them into a garbage bag. He slid open the widow as quietly as possible and climbed out onto the fire escape.

* * *

Percy's toes squeezed the handcuff key, and gently lifted it up to his hand. He snatched it from his toes. As he moved to unlock the cuffs, he spotted something strange - Harrison Tisdale descending the building's fire escape, clutching a trash bag. No one seemed to be following him.

"Hey... Hey!" Percy yelled, quickly freeing himself and grabbing his shoe. He dodged traffic as he ran across the street. He had his phone in one hand and his shoe in the other.

"He's coming down the fire escape." Percy said.

Harrison looked up and sore Annabeth. He jumped down. He hits pavement, but the bag snagged on the fire escape, ripping open. Evidence spilled everywhere. Percy raced toward him.

"Jackson, stop!"

"I got him! I got him."

Percy was still holding his shoe as he ran. He finally tossed it aside. Harrison and Percy disappeared around the corner. Annabeth jumped down and chased after them with her gun drawn. She rounded the corner to find Harrison using Percy as a shield, holding a gun to his temple.

Percy looked at her sheepishly. "Whoops."

Harrison backs away, pulling Castle with him. "Stay back!" He shouted.

"Don't be stupid. There's nowhere to go." She replied, keeping her gun trained on him. "I said stay back." He repeated, pulling Percy around the corner, heading for a subway entrance.

"Jackson, you okay?" She asked concerned.

Percy laughed and said jokingly, "Fine. Except psycho here needs a breath mint."

"Shut up." Harrison shouted.

"No, you shut up." Percy quipped.

"I'll blow your head off."

"Percy, you're not helping." She said as they reached the subway entrance. Harrison pulled Percy down the steps, keeping him as a shield. Annabeth followed with officers at her side.

Pedestrians scream and scatter although Percy seemed oddly calm. "What was it like killing your sister? I mean, your own flesh and blood." He taunted.

The look on Harrison's face showed that what Percy was saying was getting to him. "Shut up!" He yelled more loudly this time.

"Must've given you nightmares. The look in her eyes when you shot her. But I guess the money was worth it." Percy continued.

"Self-righteous bitch would've given it all away to the ungrateful poor. She didn't deserve it."

"And you needed it, didn't you? And then she introduced you to Kyle, who was already obsessed with murder. You know what your real mistake was, Harrison? A true fan never would've picked those stories." Percy stated as a train pulled into the station.

Annabeth looked at Harrison and shouted, "It's over, Harrison. Let him go!"

"It's not over. Now drop your guns or I blow his brains out."

"Oh my god. How cliche can you get?" Percy mocked before he punched his elbow into Harrison's nose and snapped his gun away. Harrison slumped against the subway train, his nose erupting in blood. Officers swarmed him. Annabeth stormed up to Percy. "What the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten yourself killed."

"I don't think so." Percy said as he handed her the gun. "Safety was on the entire time."

She looked at him frustrated and asked him through gritted teeth. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to hear him confess."

* * *

Castle tied his shoe as the officers hauled away Harrison. Annabeth walked over to him. "Well, I guess this is it."

"It doesn't have to be. How about a dinner? We can debrief each other."

"What? So I can be just another one of your conquests?" Annabeth asked.

Percy looked at her with a smug smile. "Maybe I could be one of yours."

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Jackson."

"Too bad. It would've been great." He said.

She lent in and whispered into his ear. "You have no idea how great." Smiling, she turned and walked away. Percy watched her go with a smile.

* * *

At 3:00 a.m, Piper woke because of a noise from the other room. She got out of bed and walked into the hall. Sally was up too, standing in her dressing gown. She put her finger to her lips and pointed into Percy's office,

He sitting there oblivious to everything but the words on the screen.

* * *

Annabeth sat at her desk, reading a case file. She glanced down at it, revealing that inside was a copy of Storm's End. She was on the last chapter. Chiron stuck his head out of his office and yelled, "Chase. My office. Now!" Startled, she closed the file and rushed over.

"I just got a call from the Mayor. Apparently, you have a fan."

"A fan, sir?" She asked confused.

"Percy Jackson. Seems he's found the main character for his next set of novels. A tough but saavy female detective."

"I'm flattered." She said sarcastically.

"Don't be. He says he needs to do research."

"No way." She argued.

"Chase..."

"He's like a nine year-old on a sugar rush... totally incapable of taking anything seriously."

"He did help solve the case. And Chase. When the Mayor's happy, I'm happy." Chiron stated.

"How long, sir?"

Chiron nodded in Percy's direction. He was sitting at Annabeth's desk, spinning around in her chair. "That's up to him."

Percy noticed them looking in his direction and grinned. He waved at them. Annabeth turned away with a hint of a smile.

* * *

**Please follow, favorite or review if you liked it :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN - Sorry I haven't updated in a while I've been busy. Not that that's a good enough reason to not update.**

**Thank you to ****ChickenSurvivor****, ****GoldenAppleGirl9****8, ****Jake Wolf****, ****Mystery Angle****, A****nthane****, Alugo09, Lila88, O****bsessedwithbooks206****, P****otterblacklupin-4ever****, Maximoscarnage, Peaceful Pegasus, SilverHuntresses, Kmags, XGamexDiggerX, KKPOP, guest-Toolazytosignin, guest - THE BEST GUEST and a big thank you to GM12 who added this story to their community.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to Rick Riordan and the themes and plots belong to the creators of Castle.**

**My beta wants to say sorry for any remaining mistakes but I can****'t see any. From what I heard she was hyped up from drinking**** many, many, many cups of tea**** :)**

**I****'d like to say thanks to my beta Rachel and dedicate this chapter to her.**

* * *

**Chapter ****3**

**Nanny McDead**

**(Part ****1****)**

* * *

Despite the lack of light in the room, a row of machines could be clearly seen lining the back wall. It would have been almost peaceful had there not been a series of loud thumping sounds echoing from the far side of the room.

Every couple of seconds the noise repeated itself in a steady beat. A florescent glow emanated from one of the dryers. It pierced through the shadows.

Thump. Thump. It was too loud to just be clothes in there.

Behind the glass door was the back of someone's head, long hair messed up and her body tumbling around.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

* * *

Percy sat at a conference table, looking over a stack of documents. Across from him was a man, who wore his well-tailored suit just as well as his humorless expression.

"You understand that by signing these documents, you'll be waiving a number of legal rights in exchange for the opportunity to accompany and observe Detective Chase in her duties as an officer for the NYPD?"

"Wow."

"Something wrong, Mr. Jackson?" His lawyer asked.

"Yeah." Percy said waving his phone around. "Do either of you get any bars in this room?"

Annabeth, who had been leaning against a nearby wall, shot him a look. "Jackson."

"It's just weird not to get cell service in a police station. I mean, it'd be so much easier to get your one phone call, right?" Percy joked. He turned his attention back to the paperwork when he spotted Annabeth's lips molding into a disapproving frown.

"Be advised that once these are signed, you cannot sue the city for any harm that may befall your person, mentally or physically. If you are shot, you cannot sue the city. If you are killed..."

"My lifeless remains cannot sue the city?" Percy joked. The lawyer looked at him exasperatedly. "Your heirs, Mr. Jackson." He corrected.

"Do I have to wait for him to sign or can I shoot him now?" Annabeth questioned jokingly.

"Mr. Jackson, these waivers are a serious business. Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable referring the matter to your attorney." The lawyer suggested.

"Are you kidding? He'd never let me sign these." Percy replied pulling out his pen. "Luckily, his job is to get me out of trouble, not to stop me from getting into it."

Annabeth looked at him annoyed. "Isn't your book coming out soon? Don't you have to be somewhere?"

"Probably... But being here is more fun." Percy replied cheekily.

She shook her head as she pulled out her ringing phone. "Chase... Where? I'm on my way." She said as she ended the call and hastily made her way to the door.

"Hey... Where are you going?" Percy questioned.

"I have work to do, Jackson."

"What? We have a case?" Percy asked excitedly

"I have a case. You have paperwork." She replied walking out the door.

Percy turned to the Lawyer, "£300 for a phone and she gets the bars."

* * *

Jason and Grover stood beside the now open drier. An older woman sat in a folding chair with a female officer and an E.M.T tech attending to her, supplying portable oxygen. Jason saw Annabeth enter and walked towards her as she scanned the room, her eyes landing on a busted bleach jug that lay in a small pool of clear liquid.

"So?" Annabeth asked.

"Mrs. Rosenberg. 9-E. Comes down to put her clothes in the drier, finds it's occupied. Comes down a half- hour later and she's had enough. Decides to take matters into her own hands."

"Come on. You're telling me an old lady killed someone over a busy drier?"

"What? No. She just got tired of waiting around, so she opened the drier to take the person's clothes out..." Annabeth and Jason reached into the open drier to see the body of a woman that looked to be in her twenties. She was fully clothed and cramped awkwardly inside the only drying machine, along with a little boy's clothing.

"...But finds Miss Fluff-and-Fold instead."

Annabeth leaned in for a closer look. No blood.

"Now if that's not a cautionary tale about poking through someone else's laundry, I don't know what is." Grover joked. Jason turned to him, ready to start a debate.

"Dude, there's an etiquette involved. If the clothes were dry, Mrs. Rosenberg had every right to put them in a basket. Now, if you're going tell me she folded the clothes, then it gets kinda creepy."

"Sorry, but you start rooting through my underwear without invitation? I'm going to consider that a serious breach of hygiene." Argued Grover.

Jason smirked as he said, "Thought you went commando."

"Alright, let's get her out of there with dignity still in tact and get forensics down here. I want blood samples from the edge of this table and that bleach bottle sent to the lab." On the edge of a fold up table not too far away was a speck of dried blood. "Also, photos and prints; not that it's going to do us much good in a public area... I assume she lived in the building?" Annabeth asked.

Jason shook his head. "Worked. 12-F. She's the nanny." He explained.

"Right, I'm going to go and check out the situation up there." Annabeth declared, stepping in the elevator and pushing floor 12. The doors opened to reveal Percy leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for her. "You thought you ditched me back at the precinct, didn't you?" Annabeth ignored him, shook her head and started walking down the hallway. Percy chased after her. "Come on, Nanny McDead is found on spin dry and you didn't think your Captain would let me in on that story?" He asked.

"You're right. My bad... So, exactly how long can I expect you to be shadowing me on my cases like this?" Annabeth questioned.

"Hard to say. You know when I'm writing a new character, there's no telling how long it'll take for inspiration to strike." Annabeth's brows furrowed. "Thought I was your inspiration, Jackson." A hint of jealousy was evident in her voice.

"Oh you are, Detective, and in so many ways."

She shot a warning look at him, stopping in front of the door to 12-F and pressed the button to ring the doorbell. "Well then, in that case your inspiration might strike you sooner than you think."

"The nanny's name was Sara Manning and she worked for the Petersons for about two years." Percy informed her. Annabeth gave him a confused look. "The doorman's a huge fan of my work." He explained.

Annabeth shook her head, about to say something before noticing the woman opening the door. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a silk blouse. It was the perfect professional look - minus the heels.

"Mrs. Peterson? Kate Beckett. NYPD. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Sara Manning."

"Yes, of course. Please come in." The woman replied opening the door for Annabeth and Percy.

Once inside, Percy stuck his hand out in the woman's direction. "Hi. Percy Jackson. Just NY."

* * *

Annabeth and Percy sat on a luxurious leather couch across from Howard Peterson. Claudia Peterson was talking to her son through his bedroom door. "Sweetie, Mommy and Daddy need to talk to some people, but we'll be right out here." She closed the door, leaving it open a crack, just enough to see a little boy playing on a rug inside.

"We still haven't told him what happened. We just don't know how." Claudia said with a sad smile. Mr Peterson patted the spot next to him, waiting for his wife to sit down. He put his arm around her shoulders.

"Sara was very close with him. She just had a gift with kids."

"She was such a lovely girl." Claudia added, smiling.

"I'm very sorry." Annabeth said sympathetically.

Claudia nodded."The school called me at my office when Sara didn't come to pick up Justin. I tried her cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail. Then I tried here and the machine picked up. So I hopped in a cab and went to the school. When we got home, the police were already here."

Annabeth nodded and asked, "So, the last time you spoke to Sara was when?"

"My husband saw her yesterday evening when he got home." She Answered."We take Justin to school in the mornings, so we're usually gone by the time Sara gets here. Today, she would of been her at 11. She straightens up... does Justin's laundry, then picks him up from school at around two. One of us is then home for dinner. Last night, it was Howard's turn."

Annabeth turned to Howard. "So, you talked to her last?" She questioned.

"I guess so."

"Did she mention any problems she was having? A boyfriend maybe."

Claudia looked a little unnerved. "Sara's boyfriend?" Howard started to shift in his seat. "The doorman told us the police said it was a break-in, that it was probably a stranger who did this."

"Statistically speaking there is a much greater likelihood that she knew her attacker personally." Percy declared.

"Oh my god." Claudia cried, waving her arms around dramatically. Annabeth turned to Percy, frowning while shaking her head. "We're not sure who was involved." She reasoned trying to reassure the hysterical woman.

"But she did have a boyfriend?" Percy asked bluntly. Howard nodded. "Brent. But they broke up." He answered.

"When was that?" Annabeth questioned.

"Maybe a month ago. But Sara never said there was any trouble or anything like that."

"Do you know his last name? It would really help with the investigation."

Claudia and Howard both shook their heads. "She never mentioned it." Howard stated.

"Well, I appreciate you speaking with us," Annabeth said politely. "Let's go Jackson."

Annabeth made to leave but hesitated at the doorframe and turned back, realizing she still needed to ask something. "Is there any chance you know how I can reach Sara's parents?" Claudia looked shocked.

"Oh god, I hadn't even thought about that... I'm sorry, but we don't have their number. They live down in Atlanta. Sara was just with them over Christmas."

"What about her things?" Annabeth asked.

Claudia pointed to a jacket and a bag resting on a chair. "That's her bag and jacket, feel free to take them with you if it would help with your investigation."

"Thank you." Annabeth said, walking back over and grabbing Sara's things. Then she made her final exit, Percy following close behind, out into the hallway. She had the bag in one hand and the jacket in the other. She held them precariously and rummaged through them both.

"Why didn't we stick around? I had a lot more questions." Asked Percy.

"Because I actually like to investigate things myself first. Besides, neither of them are going anywhere, Castle." She paused, checking the jacket's pockets thoroughly. "There's no cell phone."

"Did you check the laundry room or the drier?"

"If it's there, forensics will find it." Annabeth said opening a wallet. Inside was Sara Manning's driver's license. The license listed an address in Georgia.

"She still has a Georgia license." She stated.

"And you're really the one who has to call her parents?" Percy inquired.

"It's a little easier to write about than live through, huh?"

* * *

Percy and Annabeth entered the precinct to find Chiron, Grover and Jason gathered around two monitors. One monitor showed the building's rear entrance; the other was a view of inside the elevator. Percy looked at them, thinking of something witty to say. A devious smile flashed across his face. "Three men huddled around a computer. I hope that's not porn. And if it is, I'd like in."

"Underwood and Grace pulled security tapes from the elevator and the building's rear entrance. The front door has a twenty-four hour doorman, if someone came in that way he would of seen them." Chiron stated.

Grover motioned to the monitor depicting the inside of elevator. In the corner of the screen was a date and a running clock. "Victim gets on with the laundry basket, heading down to the basement to put the kid's laundry into the washer. A few minutes later, she gets on again and heads back upstairs to the apartment. Then about forty minutes later, she rides the elevator to the basement once more."

"We're thinking probably to take the kid's clothes out of the washer and put them in the drier. Thing is... she never got back on." Jason informed.

Jason stopped the recording on an image of Sara. He turned to Annabeth. "The only other person who rode the elevator all the way to the basement during the next hour is the old lady who found the body." Grover nodded, confirming what Jason had said. He fast forwarded to Mrs Rosenberg getting off the elevator.

"So, whoever attacked her had to have used the stairwell, otherwise the camera would have seen them." Annabeth simplified.

Jason picked up some files from his desk. "We got three maintenance workers on duty that day. We're gonna run their names tonight."

"Why run only the building's workers? Why not all the neighbors?" Percy asked.

"What are you basing that on?" Annabeth questioned.

"I'm basing it on the fact that a neighbor makes a better story." Everyone rolled their eyes, Percy chose to ignore them."Come on. What do any of us know about our neighbors in this city? You think the guy who lived next door to Son of Sam knew he was living next to Son of Sam?"

"He's right. Neighbors in Berkowitz's building had no idea he was the Son of Sam Killer." Chiron stated. Percy could see he had piqued their interest.

"Like... what do we know about the guy in 8-B?" Percy questioned.

"Who?"

"8-B. The quiet type; the man who walks past you everyday and you never notice. Only he noticed Sara. She was young, beautiful. The kind of girl he never stood a chance with." He explained, nodding to Annabeth. "We all know those girls, right?" He asked.

Annabeth watched as Percy captured the three's attention. "At first, it was just a game: learning her schedule; when she did the laundry, when she'd be alone... Until it became something more, something he couldn't control." A few officers had gathered in the background to listen. "He used the stairs, obviously, to avoid the elevator's camera. Then waited, concealed, in the shadows. And when she went inside that laundry room..." he had the audience was enticed, hanging on his every word. "He pounced. And then, as he looked into her vacant, lifeless eyes, he wanted to tell her: He hadn't meant to kill her; that all he'd really wanted was to be noticed... That's when he felt the warmth of that drier against his skin. He took her limp body in his arms and gently placed her inside. When he found the quarter in his pocket, he nearly smiled at his good fortune, sliding it into the coin slot, buying himself the time to do what he'd always done best... Disappear."

It was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop, but Percy had only been messing with them. Suddenly he changed back to affable. "Just saying it's a better story."

Annabeth almost couldn't hide her smile as Percy walks away. The team looked at one another: It almost made sense. Chiron looked at everyone before commanding, "Have a look what we can find out about the neighbors." Before he walked into his office he shouted, "Someone better tell me who the hell lives in 8-B."

* * *

There was a light coming from the kitchen. Piper stood by the sink washing dishes and loading the dishwasher. The place looked like Caligula had just held a feast. It was a mess.

"Let me guess. Takeout?" Percy asked coming into the kitchen.

"Yeah, Chicken tikka masala. Curtesy of Masala Zone, it was delicious." She joked.

"And where is Hurricane Martha?" Percy laughed.

"In her room, taking a dramatic pause." She answered, putting emphasis on the pause.

"And she left the mess for someone else to clean up, as usual." He judged, grabbing stuff to help with cleaning up.

"I don't mind. Dinner was fun."

"And it's not her room. It's our guest room... even with that hideous bedspread she bought."

"If you're hungry, there's lots of left-overs." Alexis said trying to change the subject.

"Thanks, but I grabbed a slice on my way home."

"You really are turning into a officer."

"Yeah? You think so?" Percy asked cooly.

Piper's expression turned serious."So who got killed today?"

"The nanny."

"Do they know who did it?" She asked.

"Apparently, in an actual homicide they don't know who did it until after the guy gets caught." Percy replied.

"How come we never had a nanny?" Piper questioned.

"Your mother and I decided that if someone was going to screw you up, we wanted it to be me." Percy answered with an off smile. "Only somehow you managed to turn out just fine." At that moment Sally decided to make her appearance.

"Ah, the prodigal son has returned from the night shift. Catch any perps tonight, kiddo?" she asked. When Percy and Piper gave her confused looks she shrugged and added. "I did an NYPD Blue once, remember?"

"You were the crazy homeless woman." Piper said confused.

"And some might say, still are." Joked Percy. Sally made a sarcastic face with a grimace at him.

"I was just asking Dad why we never had a nanny when I was little." Piper said once again trying to change the subject.

"Of course, I spared her tales of my own experience."

"Well, I had a real job as a working actress. You know not all of us can sit at home with a keyboard and claim to be employed."

"Really? You had a nanny?" Piper asked, trying to stop and argument from arising.

"They weren't called nannies then."

"What were they called?" Piper questioned confused.

"Oh, I don't know..." He said looking at Sally "Alcoholics? Raving lunatics? Completely irresponsible middle aged women who were supposed to be taking care of me but watched day time television instead?"

"Oh stop your whining. You didn't turn out half bad and don't you forget the good half are my genes."

"Which is something I just have to take your word for, isn't it? But I wasn't looking for an apology, mother. Truth is, I got the plot to my first novel from all my children."

Percy's phone rings. "Ah, Detective Beckett... Miss me already?" He asked flirtatiously.

"Which by the way makes me one quarter responsible for your success as well." Sally whispered to Piper.

Percy checked his watch. "Really? They do them at night? No, sure. I'm just really touched you thought of me... I see, so you were ordered to call me... Well, either way, I can leave now." Percy ended the call and walked over to Piper and kissed her forehead. "Gotta go. I'd tell you to wait up, but you'll be asleep by eleven."

"Ten thirty. It's a school night." She corrected.

Percy turned to Sally and asked, "Are you sure she has either one of our genes?" He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear, "Help her with the dishes."

* * *

Annabeth led Percy toward the examination room. She was wearing a paper smock over her clothes and put on a pair of plastic glasses on. "Put these on before you go in." She said handing him another pair of glasses.

Percy smiled. "Really? I thought officers just stand over the body eating ham and cheese sandwiches, cracking jokes. You know, hard-core gallows humor." Annabeth shook her head and moved inside to stand next to Thalia. Sara Manning's corpse was laid out on the examination table.

"Well, the head trauma definitely contributed to the death. The force of the blows resulted in significant cerebral hemorrhaging." Percy came in, still fitting the visor.

"Mr. Jackson. Nice to see you again." Thalia said politely.

Percy rubbed his finger over a mark on the glasses and asked, "I'd say the same but my glasses are scratched. How often do they let you replace these things?"

"Not everyone has your budget, Jackson." Annabeth chastised, turning to Thalia. "So what killed her?"

"I'd say she was struck in the head with the bleach bottle, then fell forward and hit her temple on the edge of the table. That caused temporal bleeding." Thalia went over to a counter and picked up a glass slide. "Without medical attention, she didn't stand a chance... But what I thought you'd find really interesting is the fact that she'd had sex within hours of her death."

"Sex?"

"I'll explain how that works later." Percy teased.

"Might have even been within a few minutes of the murder. Heat from the drier makes it hard to pinpoint."

"You're saying she was raped?" Annabeth questioned.

"Hard to determine. There were no vaginal lacerations or presence of any semen."

"So what was the evidence of sex?" she inquired.

"Traces of a spermicide." Annabeth gave her an off look. "The guy wore a condom." Thalia explained. Percy looked and Annabeth. "It really has been a while, hasn't it?"

"I mean, it's possible it was a rape, but my best guess is." Before Thalia could finish Annabeth interrupted."That she knew the guy." Thalia nodded.

* * *

Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Jason debated the merits."Without evidence of trauma, I'm not ready to buy her attacker as a sexual predator. Not with him using a condom." Annabeth reasoned.

"Could be he was trying to hide DNA." Grover suggested.

Jason looked at him like he was crazy. "Dude, someone smart enough to hide DNA would have been smart enough not to have sex with her in a laundry room."

"You're missing the point: The laundry room provided him with an opportunity... It isn't just chance she was killed there."

"Where are we on her cell phone?" Chiron asked, walking out of his office. "I pulled her records and had her service provider. Triangulation put the phone at or near the building." Grover stated as he handed the file to Annabeth.

"Maybe the guy took it so she couldn't call for help, then dumped it somewhere close by. What about the ex-boyfriend?" Chiron inquired.

"We have a first name. But if we had her cell phone, he might be in her address book." Jason informed

"What about these calls?" Annabeth questioned.

Percy looked at her puzzled and asked, "What calls?"

"Last two months, there's dozens of incoming calls from the same number." Annabeth explained.

"Right. We're still running it down, but the number's a pre-pay. Besides, those calls stopped a couple of weeks before she was killed." Grover replied.

"But her outgoing calls to that number stop even before that..." Grover paused for a moment, understanding, " Whoever it was, she didn't want to talk to them."

The group disbanded shortly after, storing the information and evidence in memory before moving on to other tasks. Annabeth started walking away closely followed by Percy. "She was letting those calls go to her voicemail."

* * *

A nervous man sat in the interrogation room waiting with a officer. When Percy and Anna entered, the officer got up and left with a nod.

"Brent Johnson?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah."

"Detective Chase. This is Mr. Jackson. I assume you know why you're here?" She questioned.

"Um, the officers who picked me up at my job said you had some questions about what happened to Sara?"

"That's right. We understand you and Sara were dating." Annabeth replied.

"Yeah. 'Til about a month ago."

"A month ago? What happened then?" She inquired.

"Nothing. We broke up."

"Whose idea was that?"

His eyes darted around the room, avoiding anywhere but Annabeth's eyes. He was lying. "Mutual thing, I guess."

She stared at him, sensing his unease. "A mutual thing." She repeated, reaching in her pocket and taking out a small digital recorder. She pressed play.

"Sara, it's me. Look, just call me back, okay?" A beep signals the next voicemail. "You can't just not call me. Don't be a bitch, Sara." Beep. "Sara, c'mon. I just wanna talk." Beep. "Why can't you just tell me who the guy is?" Beep. "Okay, you know what? You're just a little slut." Annabeth turned of the device and shoved it back in her pocket.

"There's plenty more of those."

"And they all make Alec Baldwin's messages seem like rainbows and unicorns." Percy chimed in as he leant against the wall.

A couple beads of sweat had started to gather on Brent's forehead."How did you get those?" He asked, panicked and seemingly frightened.

"From your service provider."

"Little advice? When you a buy a pre-pay phone, don't put it on your credit card. Makes it totally traceable." Percy commented.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything."

"No? Then why'd you just lie?" Annabeth questioned.

"Cause no man likes getting dumped, right? Our egos can't handle it. I had an ex-girlfriend cheat once and I ended up drinking every meal for a week and I never even liked her. But if I'd loved her? Wow. I don't know what I would've done."

Brent shook his head. "No. No way. It wasn't like that."

"No? Then how'd you find out about Sara, if you broke up a month ago?" She asked.

"A friend." He said with a distant look. "Chloe. Chloe Richardson. We all went to college together. Chloe is the one who got Sara her job."

"How'd this friend find out?" Annabeth questioned.

"Chloe nannies for another family in the building. They were pretty close." Brent explained.

"So, where were you the day Sara was killed?"

"Where those other cops found me. At my job. Look, they have video cameras and a sign-in sheet there. I swear, I didn't have anything to do with this." He looked at Annabeth annoyed. "So, you gonna arrest me now or what?"

"No. You can go. But I don't want you to leave town until we talk again, do you understand?" She questioned.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied getting up and making a hasty retreat.

"Don't leave town? Don't you need probable cause for something like that?" Percy asked, his interest peaking.

"Only, he doesn't know that, does he." Annabeth stated as she headed out the exit as well.

"So, you can just lie like that? That is so cool."

* * *

Percy and Annabeth sat in a park near the playground frequented by most manhattan nannies. Children sat on swings, in sandboxes and on the grass by the slides.

"The doorman told Underwood that this is the playground most of the nannies in the building go to, so this girl Chloe should be here."

"Kinda takes me back a bit."

Annabeth smiled at him and playfully teased, "A bit? I'm thinkin' it's gotta be a little more than that, Jackson."

"I wasn't talking about when I was a kid. I was referring to taking my daughter to the park."

"You took your daughter to the park?" She asked.

"Spring, summer and fall, we were here almost everyday. Alexis's mother was on the road a lot - community theater - so I had custody." Annabeth looked at him amused. "What?"

She quietly chuckled to herself. "Just never figured you for Mr. Mum."

"Some of the best days of my life." Percy replied, smiling.

"That's actually nice."

"Tell me about it. Do you know how many lonely single mothers there are on a Manhattan playground? And there I was in between marriages."

"Exactly how many times have you been married, Jackson?"

"Twice."

"That's it?" Annabeth asked.

"Isn't that enough? How about you?" He questioned.

She shook her head at him. "Me. Nope. Never been."

"You'd be good at it. You're controlling and disapproving. You should really try it." He joked.

"I'm not an if at first you don't succeed sort of girl, Jackson. When it comes to marriage, I'm more the one and done type."

"Any serious candidates?" Asked Percy.

Annabeth looked like she was going to say something but changed her mind. "The doorman said she had a red vest on. That could be her over there." Annabeth headed over to a young, blonde woman with a little girl near her side.

"Chloe?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes?"

"Detective Chase. I'd like to ask you some questions about Sara Manning?"

Chloe's eyes darted to a little girl playing a short distance away. "Right Now?"

"It won't take long." Annabeth assured.

Chloe looked around, searching for someone. "Hey Maggie?" She shouted getting the attention of another nanny in her twenty's. "Could you watch Becca for a minute?"

Annabeth led Chloe over to a park bench. "Sara's boyfriend told us you were the one who got Sara her job."

Chloe looked at her confused and asked, "You talked to Brent?" Annabeth nodded.

"When we got out of school, Sara couldn't find a job. She was temping all over town. I nannie for a family in the same building and heard the Petersons were looking for someone."

"So, when was the last time you saw Sara?" Asked Annabeth. Chloe turned and looked away. "I understand how it feels to lose someone, Chloe... But we need to ask you these questions."

"We'd meet before work sometimes. Get some coffee on Columbus, then walk over to work together."

"Did you have coffee with her that day?" Annabeth questioned.

"Yeah."

"And, did Sara say anything to you? Did she seem upset?"

"Upset? Upset about what?" Chloe asked.

"We got the impression from Brent that Sara was seeing someone else."

Chloe looked away again. "You know who he was, don't you." Chloe turned at looked at Percy. He could tell this was hard for her.

"Sara stayed late sometimes."

"What do you mean? At the Petersons?" Asked Annabeth. Percy mouthed I told you so behind Chloe's back.

"We got off work around the same time, so we'd take the train together. I live with a roommate a couple of blocks from Sara... But the last few months she started staying late... Mr. And Mrs. Peterson kinda take turns coming home for dinner, you know?"

"Yes. Mrs. Peterson told us."

Chloe started to panic. " God, I don't wanna say something and then- I mean, he's married."

Annabeth nodded and asked, "Sara told you about him then?"

"No. Not exactly. It's just... the nights Mrs. Peterson didn't come home for dinner? Those were the only nights Sara stayed late."

* * *

"Told you we should have asked the husband more questions that day."

"And I told you, I like to question my most likely suspect after I know more about him. That way he's tied to more specific answers." Annabeth explained.

"So you suspected him too?" Percy asked.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at him. "The husband? Duh."

"You know, you would totally clean up at my poker game." Percy joked, half seriously.

"Right. Just you, James Patterson and the rest of the Times best seller list... Think it's probably a little too rich for my blood."

"We could always make it strip poker?" Percy teased.

"Sorry, Castle, but I prefer mystery to horror." Castle smiled as they came upon Howard on his phone, roaming a space. He saw them, his look indicating he was unsure why they were here. He held up a finger for them to wait. "Yeah. I'm checking out the space now, but I told you, I need at least twenty thousand square feet." He declared. Beckett indicated he should rap up his call.

"Look, I'll call you back if my clients are interested."

"Hi. Remember us?"

"I thought we were done with this."

"We have some more questions we need to ask you Mr. Peterson, When was the last time you saw Sara?" She asked walking along side him.

"I already told you. The night before she was killed."

"Which was your night to be home for dinner, right?" Percy asked.

Howard looked at him confused. "Yes. Why are you asking?" Percy was about to answer but Annabeth interrupted. "Eh. Eh. Eh." She said before turning to Mr. Peterson "I have information that Sara Manning was having a relationship."

"Right. She had a boyfriend." Peterson answered confused. Percy scrunched up his face. She was guessing wrong.

"Someone else."

"Someone else? Who?" Peterson questioned. Percy looked at him and sheepishly pointed to him. Peterson's eyes widened. "Me? You think I was having an affair with Sara?"

"Bingo."

"But that's, that's... Crazy." Howard declared.

"Is it? We know she stayed late on some nights."

"To help us with dinner." Howard explained slowly as if speaking to a child.

"Us? What we heard is that she only helped on the nights your wife wasn't home." Howard Peterson looked trapped, his eyes darted around the room uncomfortably. "... It's not what you think."

"When is it ever?" Percy asked.

"Look, it wasn't my fault Wall Street tanked and took the real estate market with it. Only try telling her that." Peterson said angrily. Annabeth brows furrowed, she was really confused. "Try telling who that, Mr. Peterson?"

"My wife. And you're right. I was having an affair."

"So, what happened?" She asked.

"What do you mean, what happened? I cheated. I strayed. Whatever you want to call it."

She rolled her eyes. "I meant, in that laundry room."

"...What?" he asked quizzically, raising his eyebrows so high that they almost disappeared in his hair line.

"You just said that-"

"-I was having an affair. But it wasn't with Sara, for godsake. It was with a woman in my office. Look, on the nights I was supposed to be home for dinner? I wasn't. Check the land line at the apartment. I always called Sara to make sure things were okay. There's gotta be records from my cell phone, right?"

Annabeth looked at the floor feeling a little deflated.

"Don't leave town?" Percy said questioningly.

* * *

The precinct was quiet, filled with detectives busy at work. When they returned Jason and Grover were sat at their desks, looking through files.

Jason noticed Annabeth's deflated look. "What happened with the husband?"

"He says he was cheating, just not with our victim. I want you to run it down. Here's her name." She replied, handing a paper to Grover. Jason shook his head and tutted, "I'm telling you, true commitment's a thing of the past. I mean, name me one happily married couple."

"Degeneres and de Rossi." Percy replied.

Grover chuckled and patted Jason's back patronizingly. "Think he just got you, bro."

"What is this, The View? Where are we on the boyfriend?"

Grover's carefree attitude vanished as he explained their predicament. "His story checked out. We have it on video and a sign-in sheet."

"Great. So all we have is a cheating husband with a possible alibi and no cell phone to try to lift the perp's fingerprints." Allison let out an exasperated sigh.

"I got something better."

"Please tell me it's that the mayor wants him out of here." Annabeth said annoyed, pointing to Percy. Hi just smirked and asked, "Have you noticed that she gets a little grumpy when she doesn't have a suspect?"

Jason nodded as he turned his head to the side, raising one of his arms up to rub his neck as if to pretend that it was just because he was sore, escaping from a bone chilling glare directed at him from Annabeth. "It seems that we do have a suspect now actually..." Jason offered, hoping to appease the frustrated woman, "Take a guess at who's alibi didn't match up for the day Miss Manning was killed." He said as his voice adopted a more teasing tone.

"Who?" Annabeth inquired.

Jason smiled at her. "Come on, guess."

"I'm not guessing, Jason." She replied firmly.

"You're a killjoy, you know that."

Percy laughed. "That's exactly what I've been telling her."

Jason handed her his pad. She looked at the name that had been underlined, then back up at Jason, who had been grinning. "Pretty good, huh? Told you, you should of guessed."

* * *

They knocked on the door to 12-F. Claudia Peterson appeared wearing a black blazer over a cream shirt, she had on navy jeans and a pair of heels.

"You weren't at your office the day Sara Manning was killed, were you. You lied to me, Mrs. Peterson."

* * *

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